the wheels of chance-第3章

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n　of　the　return。　The　shadow　of　going　back；　of　being　put　in　the　cage　again　for　another　twelve　months；　lies　blacker　and　blacker　across　the　sunlight。　But　on　the　first　morning　of　the　ten　the　holiday　has　no　past；　and　ten　days　seems　as　good　as　infinity。

And　it　was　fine；　full　of　a　promise　of　glorious　days；　a　deep　blue　sky　with　dazzling　piles　of　white　cloud　here　and　there；　as　though　celestial　haymakers　had　been　piling　the　swathes　of　last　night's　clouds　into　cocks　for　a　coming　cartage。　There　were　thrushes　in　the　Richmond　Road；　and　a　lark　on　Putney　Heath。　The　freshness　of　dew　was　in　the　air；　dew　or　the　relics　of　an　overnight　shower　glittered　on　the　leaves　and　grass。　Hoopdriver　had　breakfasted　early　by　Mrs。　Gunn's　complaisance。　He　wheeled　his　machine　up　Putney　Hill；　and　his　heart　sang　within　him。　Halfway　up；　a　dissipated…looking　black　cat　rushed　home　across　flile　road　and　vanished　under　a　gate。　All　the　big　red…brick　houses　behind　the　variegated　shrubs　and　trees　had　their　blinds　down　still；　and　he　would　not　have　changed　places　with　a　soul　in　any　one　of　them　for　a　hundred　pounds。

He　had　on　his　new　brown　cycling　suita　handsome　Norfolk　jacket　thing　for　30/and　his　legsthose　martyr　legswere　more　than　consoled　by　thick　chequered　stockings；　〃thin　in　the　foot；　thick　in　the　leg；〃　for　all　they　had　endured。　A　neat　packet　of　American　cloth　behind　the　saddle　contained　his　change　of　raiment；　and　the　bell　and　the　handle…bar　and　the　hubs　and　lamp；　albeit　a　trifle　freckled　by　wear；　glittered　blindingly　in　the　rising　sunlight。　And　at　the　top　of　the　hill；　after　only　one　unsuccessful　attempt；　which；　somehow；　terminated　on　the　green；　Hoopdriver　mounted；　and　with　a　stately　and　cautious　restraint　in　his　pace；　and　a　dignified　curvature　of　path；　began　his　great　Cycling　Tour　along　the　Southern　Coast。

There　is　only　one　phrase　to　describe　his　course　at　this　stage；　and　that　isvoluptuous　curves。　He　did　not　ride　fast；　he　did　not　ride　straight；　an　exacting　critic　might　say　he　did　not　ride　well…　…but　he　rode　generously；　opulently；　using　the　whole　road　and　even　nibbling　at　the　footpath。　The　excitement　never　flagged。　So　far　he　had　never　passed　or　been　passed　by　anything；　but　as　yet　the　day　was　young　and　the　road　was　clear。　He　doubted　his　steering　so　much　that；　for　the　present；　he　had　resolved　to　dismount　at　the　approach　of　anything　else　upon　wheels。　The　shadows　of　the　trees　lay　very　long　and　blue　across　the　road；　the　morning　sunlight　was　like　amber　fire。　

At　the　cross…roads　at　the　top　of　West　Hill；　where　the　cattle　trough　stands；　he　turned　towards　Kingston　and　set　himself　to　scale　the　little　bit　of　ascent。　An　early　heath…keeper；　in　his　velveteen　jacket；　marvelled　at　his　efforts。　And　while　he　yet　struggled；　the　head　of　a　carter　rose　over　the　brow。

At　the　sight　of　him　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　according　to　his　previous　determination；　resolved　to　dismount。　He　tightened　the　brake；　and　the　machine　stopped　dead。　He　was　trying　to　think　what　he　did　with　his　right　leg　whilst　getting　off。　He　gripped　the　handles　and　released　the　brake；　standing　on　the　left　pedal　and　waving　his　right　foot　in　the　air。　Thenthese　things　take　so　long　in　the　tellinghe　found　the　machine　was　falling　over　to　the　right。　While　he　was　deciding　upon　a　plan　of　action；　gravitation　appears　to　have　been　busy。　He　was　still　irresolute　when　he　found　the　machine　on　the　ground；　himself　kneeling　upon　it；　and　a　vague　feeling　in　his　mind　that　again　Providence　had　dealt　harshly　with　his　shin。　This　happened　when　he　was　just　level　with　the　heathkeeper。　The　man　in　the　approaching　cart　stood　up　to　see　the　ruins　better。

〃THAT　ain't　the　way　to　get　off；〃　said　the　heathkeeper。

Mr。　Hoopdriver　picked　up　the　machine。　The　handle　was　twisted　askew　again　He　said　something　under　his　breath。　He　would　have　to　unscrew　the　beastly　thing。

〃THAT　ain't　the　way　to　get　off；〃　repeated　the　heathkeeper；　after　a　silence。

〃_I_　know　that；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　testily；　determined　to　overlook　the　new　specimen　on　his　shin　at　any　cost。　He　unbuckled　the　wallet　behind　the　saddle；　to　get　out　a　screw　hammer。

〃If　you　know　it　ain't　the　way　to　get　offwhaddyer　do　it　for？〃　said　the　heath…keeper；　in　a　tone　of　friendly　controversy。

Mr。　Hoopdriver　got　out　his　screw　hammer　and　went　to　the　handle。　He　was　annoyed。　〃That's　my　business；　I　suppose；〃　he　said；　fumbling　with　the　screw。　The　unusual　exertion　had　made　his　hands　shake　frightfully。

The　heath…keeper　became　meditative；　and　twisted　his　stick　in　his　hands　behind　his　back。　〃You've　broken　yer　'andle；　ain't　yer？〃　he　said　presently。　Just　then　the　screw　hammer　slipped　off　the　nut。　Mr。　Hoopdriver　used　a　nasty；　low　word。

〃They're　trying　things；　them　bicycles；〃　said　the　heath…keeper；　charitably。　〃Very　trying。〃　Mr。　Hoopdriver　gave　the　nut　a　vicious　turn　and　suddenly　stood　uphe　was　holding　the　front　wheel　between　his　knees。　〃I　wish；〃　said　he；　with　a　catch　in　his　voice；　〃I　wish　you'd　leave　off　staring　at　me。〃

Then　with　the　air　of　one　who　has　delivered　an　ultimatum；　he　began　replacing　the　screw　hammer　in　the　wallet。

The　heath…keeper　never　moved。　Possibly　he　raised　his　eyebrows；　and　certainly　he　stared　harder　than　he　did　before。　〃You're　pretty　unsociable；〃　he　said　slowly；　as　Mr。　Hoopdriver　seized　the　handles　and　stood　ready　to　mount　as　soon　as　the　cart　had　passed。

The　indignation　gathered　slowly　but　surely。　〃Why　don't　you　ride　on　a　private　road　of　your　own　if　no　one　ain't　to　speak　to　you？〃　asked　the　heath…keeper；　perceiving　more　and　more　clearly　the　bearing　of　the　matter。　〃Can't　no　one　make　a　passin'　remark　to　you；　Touchy？　Ain't　I　good　enough　to　speak　to　you？　Been　struck　wooden　all　of　a　sudden？〃

Mr。　Hoopdriver　stared　into　the　Immensity　of　the　Future。　He　was　rigid　with　emotion。　It　was　like　abusing　the　Lions　in　Trafalgar　Square。　But　the　heathkeeper　felt　his　honour　was　at　stake。

〃Don't　you　make　no　remarks　to　'IM；〃　said　the　keeper　as　the　carter　came　up　broadside　to　them。　〃'E's　a　bloomin'　dook；　'e　is。　'E　don't　converse　with　no　one　under　a　earl。　'E's　off　to　Windsor；　'e　is；　that's　why　'e's　stickin'　his　be'ind　out　so　haughty。　Pride！　Why；　'e's　got　so　much　of　it；　'e　has　to　carry　some　of　it　in　that　there　bundle　there；　for　fear　'e'd　bust　if　'e　didn't　ease　hisself　a　bit…　…'E〃　

But　Mr。　Hoopdriver　heard　no　more。　He　was　hopping　vigorously　along　the　road；　in　a　spasmodic　attempt　to　remount。He　missed　the　treadle　once　and　swore　viciously；　to　the　keeper's　immense　delight。　〃Nar！　Nar！〃　said　the　heath…keeper。

In　another　moment　Mr。　Hoopdriver　was　up；　and　after　one　terrific　lurch　of　the　machine；　the　heathkeeper　dropped　out　of　earshot。　Mr。　Hoopdriver　would　have　liked　to　look　back　at　his　enemy；　but　he　usually　twisted　round　and　upset　if　he　tried　that。　He　had　to　imagine　the　indignant　heath…keeper　telling　the　carter　all　about　it。　He　tried　to　infuse　as　much　disdain　aspossible　into　his　retreating　aspect。

He　drove　on　his　sinuous　way　down　the　dip　by　the　new　mere　and　up　the　little　rise　to　the　crest　of　the　hill　that　drops　into　Kingston　Vale；　and　so　remarkable　is　the　psychology　of　cycling；　that　he　rode　all　the　straighter　and　easier　because　the　emotions　the　heathkeeper　had　aroused　relieved　his　mind　of　the　constant　expectation　of　collapse　that　had　previously　unnerved　him。　To　ride　a　bicycle　properly　is　very　like　a　love　affairchiefly　it　　is　a　matter　of　faith。　Believe　you　do　it；　and　the　thing　is　done；　doubt；　and；　for　the　life　of　you；　you　cannot。

Now　you　may　perhaps　imagine　that　as　he　rode　on；　his　feelings　towards　the　heath…keeper　were　either　vindictive　or　remorseful；vindictive　for　the　aggravation　or　remorseful　for　his　own　injudicious　display　of　ill　temper。　As　a　matter　of　fact；　they　were　nothing　of　the　sort。　A　sudden；　a　wonderful　gratitude；　possessed　him。　The　Glory　of　the　Holidays　had　resumed　its　sway　with　a　sudden　accession　of　splendour。　At　the　crest　of　the　hill　he　put　his　feet　upon　the　footrests；　and　now　riding　moderately　straight；　went；　with　a　palpitating　brake；　down　that　excellent　descent。　A　new　delight　was　in　his　eyes；　quite　over　and　above　the　pleasure　of　rushing　through　the　keen；　sweet；　morning　air。　He　reached　out　his　thumb　and　twanged　his　bell　out　of　sheer　happiness。

〃'He's　a　bloomin'　Dookhe　is！'〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver　to　himself；　in　a　soft　undertone；　as　he　went　soaring　down　the　hill；　and　again；　〃'He's　a　bloomin'　Dook！〃'